Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl eBook

their freedom for them. Some believe that the
abolitionists have already made them free, and that
it is established by law, but that their masters prevent
the law from going into effect. One woman begged
me to get a newspaper and read it over. She said
her husband told her that the black people had sent
word to the queen of ’Merica that they were
all slaves; that she didn’t believe it, and went
to Washington city to see the president about it.
They quarrelled; she drew her sword upon him, and
swore that he should help her to make them all free.

That poor, ignorant woman thought that America was
governed by a Queen, to whom the President was subordinate.
I wish the President was subordinate to Queen Justice.

IX. Sketches Of Neighboring Slaveholders.

There was a planter in the country, not far from us,
whom I will call Mr. Litch. He was an ill-bred,
uneducated man, but very wealthy. He had six
hundred slaves, many of whom he did not know by sight.
His extensive plantation was managed by well-paid
overseers. There was a jail and a whipping post
on his grounds; and whatever cruelties were perpetrated
there, they passed without comment. He was so
effectually screened by his great wealth that he was
called to no account for his crimes, not even for
murder.

Various were the punishments resorted to. A favorite
one was to tie a rope round a man’s body, and
suspend him from the ground. A fire was kindled
over him, from which was suspended a piece of fat pork.
As this cooked, the scalding drops of fat continually
fell on the bare flesh. On his own plantation,
he required very strict obedience to the eighth commandment.
But depredations on the neighbors were allowable, provided
the culprit managed to evade detection or suspicion.
If a neighbor brought a charge of theft against any
of his slaves, he was browbeaten by the master, who
assured him that his slaves had enough of every thing
at home, and had no inducement to steal. No sooner
was the neighbor’s back turned, than the accused
was sought out, and whipped for his lack of discretion.
If a slave stole from him even a pound of meat or
a peck of corn, if detection followed, he was put
in chains and imprisoned, and so kept till his form
was attentuated by hunger and suffering.

A freshnet once bore his wine cellar and meat house
miles away from the plantation. Some slaves followed,
and secured bits of meat and bottles of wine.
Two were detected; a ham and some liquor being found
in their huts. They were summoned by their master.
No words were used, but a club felled them to the
ground. A rough box was their coffin, and their
interment was a dog’s burial. Nothing was
said.

Murder was so common on his plantation that he feared
to be alone after nightfall. He might have believed
in ghosts.

His brother, if not equal in wealth, was at least
equal in cruelty. His bloodhounds were well trained.
Their pen was spacious, and a terror to the slaves.
They were let loose on a runway, and, if they tracked
him, they literally tore the flesh from his bones.
When this slaveholder died, his shrieks and groans
were so frightful that they appalled his own friends.
His last words were, “I am going to hell; bury
my money with me.”